The Babysitter
by Chrystallized
Summary: She was stealing his thunder, and Jack didn't take too kindly to being outdone. Of course, the girl wasn't doing it on purpose, but who was she exactly to upstage the Guardian of Fun?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** **So I've come to terms with the fact that I probably won't finish any fanfiction other than oneshots. I was hoping I could get at least _one _chapter story finished, but no luck. As a result, I have this first chapter to post, but it will most likely be the only chapter I post unless by some miracle I actually finish the entire story. If that happens, I'll upload the rest.**

**This is a story with an OC. If you're not too big on the idea of OCs for whatever reason, this may not be your cup of tea. I'm rather fond of my OCs and tend to make them integral parts of the stories I write. Since this is the first chapter, however, there's not much information and I do leave a lot of holes open, obviously. The reason I posted is for the sole purpose of feedback, to check how I'm doing and if my writing is quality enough for you readers. **

**Thanks for your time!**

* * *

After the battle against Pitch's army, the children from Burgess carried on with their lives as they had during the years previous. They spoke to others not of the great fight, nor of the thrill of meeting their magnificent childhood heroes, nor of how the night had been illuminated by the use of immense magical power. Rather, the children kept this story among them, but continued to spread the belief in the Guardians wherever they could. The adults would have thought the story to be ludicrous and convince all the other kids that it was just their imagination.

How could it have been their imagination? Or even just a vivid dream? Was there such a phenomenon to cause people to have the exact same dream? No, it _did_ happen, and they knew it.

When the group was together, they retold the story to each other over and over, recalling their favorite moments and reenacting a few, all in good fun. They wanted to remember every second of that night, to engrave it in their minds so what they saw and heard and learned would never be forgotten. During the winter, an old friend, one with the powers to call upon the wind and let snowflakes flutter from the sky, would frequently visit them, further strengthening their belief.

* * *

Burgess was experiencing snow that weekend, the first time during that winter, courtesy of the oh-so-generous Mr. Frost. There was a snowball fight between children happening in one of the neighborhoods, a very common occurrence on such a day. Jamie Bennett had narrowly dodged a projectile from Cupcake and retaliated clumsily, only to miss and nail Claude straight in the chest. Sophie was off to the side, avoiding the line of fire but giggling gleefully at the sight before her.

It went on for a few more minutes and the kids almost seemed to forget about everything else around them. They were having so much fun that they hadn't noticed a figure flying above them, towards the lake and landing just on the bank.

Suddenly a snowball shot straight through the air, nailing Pippa in the back and causing her to stumble over a bit. Everyone looked around for the perpetrator, but it appeared that no one had thrown the snowball. The group exchange confused looks until they heard a familiar voice from the direction of the lake.

"And that, my friends, is how you throw a snowball," Jack declared proudly, winking at Jamie.

The kids should have expected it, really. It was, after all, the first time they had snow that season, and Jack was sure to pay a visit. In excitement, they all rushed toward him, calling his name. Jack greeted them all and smiled. "Who's up for another round?" he asked them.

The children cheered unanimously. Monty balled up some snow in his hands to throw the first strike, but something stopped him. Jack listened carefully, and he heard someone else calling out to them. The kids stopped and turned towards the path to the neighborhood. Someone was coming.

"Jamie!"

Jack looked up. He'd visited Burgess countless of times—heck, it was his hometown from 300 years ago—but he'd never heard that voice before. There was probably a new neighbor or something.

The voice sounded like a teenager's voice, not incredibly mature but not totally childish. Unsurprisingly, an older girl of about seventeen had walked into the clearing by the lake. She wasn't very tall, but she had a slender frame and curly chestnut hair that was cut at the nape of her neck. The dark brown color reminded Jack of some wood from a fancy door that he saw in Italy once. Mahogany or something? The girl had a rather fair complexion though her cheeks were tinted pink from the wind. She was carrying Sophie in her arms, and the toddler was snuggling close to the girl for warmth. Looking at Sophie's discomfort at the cold, Jack felt a slight twinge of guilt.

Jamie tugged on Jack's sweater discreetly. The spirit leaned down so Jamie could whisper at him, "She's Sophie and my babysitter."

It didn't seem like the girl saw Jack. Or actually, she couldn't see him. Her soft gray eyes scanned the group for Jamie, and when she found him, she sighed in relief.

"Oh, good," she said. Her voice rang clear through the crisp winter air. "Sophie had some trouble catching up with you guys. You all ran so quickly." She raised her eyebrows. "I went back inside for a few minutes to grab my scarf and when I came back out, you were disappearing through the trees."

Jamie rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry, Brooke. And Sophie."

The other kids were shuffling uncomfortably, like they were afraid the girl was going to scold them harshly.

_Oh, so that's her name_, Jack thought, looking around at everyone's faces. _Hope I didn't get Jamie in trouble._

At that moment, Brooke smiled, and all the kids seemed to relax at once. "Hey, no harm, no foul, right?" She nodded back towards the direction of the house. "You're sister might catch a cold soon, though, so I'll take her to the house. You can stay for a little while longer if you want. We can watch some movies once you get home, okay?"

Jack sighed. Well, that didn't leave him much time, but he'd make the most of it.

Brooke turned to walk back with Sophie went Jamie said, "Uh—"

She turned around, bringing up a hand to stroke Sophie's hair when the little girl stirred. "Yeah?" she asked. "Something wrong?"

"No," Jamie answered, but he looked back at Jack with an apologetic expression before turning back to Brooke, who had an eyebrow raised. "I mean, I can go back with you guys now."

Or maybe Jack had no time at all.

"Are you sure?" Brooke asked uncertainly. "It's Saturday. Don't you want to be with your friends?"

_Yeah, Jamie,_ Jack thought, looking down at the boy. His eyebrows knit together in confusion. He felt sort of betrayed. _C'mon, it's my first visit in months! Doesn't the Guardian of Fun ring a bell to any of you guys?_

"Movies sound fun right now!" Pippa said.

"Can we come too?" Caleb asked Brooke, looking at her with pleading eyes.

Brooke looked at all of their expressions. Jack almost couldn't believe what he was seeing. They were leaving him for the babysitter? Since when did Jamie have a babysitter anyway? He wouldn't admit it, but Jack was becoming a bit jealous of this girl. He tried to smother it, though. Jealousy was ugly.

Suddenly the girl chuckled, slightly shifting Sophie's weight in her arms. "I guess that would work, then. I'll make hot chocolate for everyone. How's that?"

The kids followed Brooke excitedly, except for Jamie, who stayed and turned to Jack guiltily. "Sorry, Jack—"

"Hey now, kiddo," Jack interrupted, kneeling in front of Jamie and giving a reassuring grin. "That's the third time I've heard you say sorry since I got here. There's no need for that. You guys go have…fun, okay? I'll visit you again later."

Jamie nodded and smiled, which was enough to let Jack know that the kid hadn't given up on him. He was afraid that the kids had grown tired of him, but the look on Jamie's face told him that that wasn't the case. It was a little reassuring, but Jack was still dismayed.

"If you could meet Brooke, Jack, she's really cool," Jamie insisted, smiling wider. "And she listens to our stories. You would be great friends, I know it!" And with that, Jamie turned on his heel and ran back towards his house.

Jack stood up and frowned slightly. Even if Jamie didn't mean to hurt his feelings, Jack felt a bit left out. It wouldn't be the first time, either.

"Cool?" Jack asked himself aloud, taking a walk over the frozen lake. "I'm way cooler." He materialized a snowflake and blew so it fluttered through the air like a dandelion seed. Jack chuckled. "Literally, anyway."

But now, Jack's interest was definitely piqued when Jamie mentioned that Brooke listened to the stories. He wasn't exactly sure what that meant, and he wanted to find out. What's more, he wanted to know what kind of person Brooke was; not just anyone would be able to catch the kids' attention, especially not that bunch. After the things that they've seen, they wouldn't settle for anything or anyone ordinary.

Jack let the wind take him up and over the street to Jamie's house, where he saw the kids and Brooke just walking inside. After Brooke had closed the door behind them, Jack approached the porch of the house to peer through the window. He felt weird, like he was spying on them, but the thought quickly left him once he saw how enthusiastic the children were being.

Inside the living room, from what Jack could see, the kids were settling down in front of TV that was sitting inside a wooden case set up against the wall. Caleb, Claude, Pippa, and Cupcake were the first to take seats on the plush sofa, while Monty chose to sit on top of the armrest, which was comfortable for him. Jamie and Sophie took places on the floor in front of the couch but behind the coffee table that was placed in the middle of the room. Abbey the greyhound snuggled up under Jamie's arm and Sophie reached over to pet Abbey's head affectionately. Sophie sneezed then, startling both herself and Jamie, and making the other kids laugh.

The Guardian smiled softly. None of them noticed him at the window as they were apparently too distracted by the prospect of watching a movie. They chatted amongst themselves while Brooke had gone into the kitchen to make the hot chocolate.

It was a shame, really, that Jack couldn't join them. He had been expecting a big welcome like always, but he hadn't planned on the welcome being cut so short.

_Guess I was just getting too used to it, _Jack thought wistfully. He knew there would be a time where he couldn't have moments like this with the kids anymore, that even though he never aged, they all would eventually grow older and maybe even forget about him. He wanted every second to last. Every child was special, but Jack had a particular soft spot for the children in Burgess.

Jack sighed. He was starting to think like a parent that never wanted his kids to grow up. In fact, he was old enough to be Jamie's great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather—he just didn't look like it. After three hundred years of making children all over the world happy, Jack took particular care in making sure these kids were having fun whenever he was around. He owed them that much, after they saved his and the other Guardians' skins by helping them defeat Pitch.

Before he was too lost in thought, Jack heard the kids' murmuring grow into hurrahs as Brooke came back into the living room with a tray with six mugs and a small bowl of something that Jack couldn't really see through the window. It appeared as though they were deciding on a movie to watch now, because Pippa and Jamie were pointing at different CDs on the DVD shelf under the television, and they seemed to be arguing. Eventually it was Monty's decision to decide, and Jamie put the CD in the player. Once they'd settled down, Jack decided it was time for him to move on for the day, so he called upon the wind to take him into the air. Maybe he would visit Alaska or something for the time being.

Back inside the house, Claude asked Brooke what the little bowl was for.

"It's Sophie's," Brooke explained, passing out the mugs to everyone. She grabbed the bowl, set the tray on the coffee table, and then sat down cross-legged in front of the couch by Sophie. Brooke patted her lap and the toddler went to sit in Brooke's lap. "I heard her sneezing so I made some quick chicken soup. Careful sweetie, it's hot," she warned as Sophie grabbed the spoon from the bowl. Brooke held the bowl in front of Sophie so she could eat.

"But it was just a sneeze," Jamie said. "She didn't catch a cold yet."

"I remember you saying something similar about a week ago, when you starting sneezing after playing in the rain," Brooke countered, raising an eyebrow playfully. "Weren't you sick in bed the next day?"

The kids laughed and Jamie sat back in defeat. Brooke ruffled his hair with her free hand. The movie had already started. It was some animated movie about dragons and Vikings; they had all seen it before, but it was still funny. For the next hour or so, the kids were well behaved and there wasn't much commotion. Near the end of the film, Caleb asked aloud, "Wouldn't it be so cool to be able to fly?"

"Like Jack Frost?" Monty added.

"Or the Tooth Fairy!" Pippa chimed in.

By this time everyone had finished their hot chocolate and the mugs were on the table, along with Sophie's empty bowl. The little girl had dozed off in Brooke's lap, who hugged her close to keep her warm. She woke up after hearing Pippa's exclamation. Abbey had left the room before to go to her bed. Claude tapped Brooke's shoulder and she turned to look at him.

"Have you ever seen the Tooth Fairy?" he asked.

Brooke frowned slightly and shook her head. "No, actually, I haven't. You?"

They all nodded excitedly.

"Remember when we told you about the Sandman and the Boogeyman?" Jamie reminded her.

"Yeah, when I first met you guys about a month ago," Brooke recalled.

That was when she had moved into Burgess. Brooke moved in five houses down from Jamie, and she saw the kids out in the neighborhood. They were playing some sort of game. All of them were having so much fun, so naturally Brooke asked what they were doing. Caleb had been playing the Sandman, and Claude had been the Boogeyman. The rest of the kids were playing either Sandman's dream sand creations, or the Boogeyman's nightmares. They explained to Brooke how strong the Sandman was and all his different powers, and they acted out the scene for her. She asked them how they thought of this game, and Jamie was the first to say that they'd met Sandman and the Boogeyman, who also known as Pitch Black.

The best part about it was that Brooke didn't ridicule their story; in fact, she _believed _them. That was why the kids liked her so much. She listened and nodded and asked questions for things she wanted to know. After hearing their descriptions, Brooke told them a story of when she was a little girl: she was having a restless night and couldn't sleep, so she was tossing and turning in her bed. Then, she saw this glowing golden sand floating above her head and before she knew it, she was already dreaming. She remembered what had happened in the morning, and she was so convinced the Sandman had been there, but her father told her she was just dreaming, nothing more.

She won them over with that story. It was like her proof that she believed just like they did, and they were impressed with her. In the end, Brooke got to play as one of Sandy's dream sand creations, helping Caleb defeat Claude and the nightmares. From that point on, she'd been a favorite person of the group.

"Well, we met the Tooth Fairy, too!" Jamie grinned from ear to ear. "And Santa, and Jack Frost, and the Easter Bunny! They're the Guardians."

"The Easter Bunny is wicked cool!" Claude said, jumping up off of the couch and throwing pretend boomerangs. Sophie giggled. "He's super tall and he has these giant fighting eggs!"

"Santa has tattoos all over his arms, too," Cupcake said. She also stood up next to Claude, making gestures with air swords. "And he has two swords he waves around like this."

Pippa got up, moving her arms like wings and joining the other two. "The Tooth Fairy is really pretty. Her feathers are like rainbows."

Monty walked up next, without saying a word. He pretended to sleep, and Claude shook him to "wake" him up.

"That's right," Jamie said, chuckling. He leaned over to Brooke. "Sandman doesn't talk. Ever. He's not supposed to wake anyone so he stays quiet."

"Last but not least is Jack Frost," Pippa said. "Come on Jamie, what're you waiting for?"

Jamie smiled and rushed up to the front of the formation, grabbing an invisible staff and pointing it at different places. "Jack has lots of snow and ice powers. He can freeze Pitch's nightmares in their tracks!"

The entire group struck a different heroic pose that had a comically awkward effect, and Brooke laughed, clapping her hands along with Sophie.

"Hold on," Brooke said, looking around. She knit her eyebrows. "Where's Caleb?"

A voice from behind the sofa said, "You mean…_Pitch Black?_"

The whole group pretended to gasp and Caleb emerged from behind the sofa with his best sinister smile. Brooke tried to stifle a giggle.

"Afraid, are you?" Caleb taunted. He laughed maniacally. "Muahahaha! After all, I am the Boogeym—"

A pillow to the face interrupted his speech, causing Caleb to fall back onto the couch. Everyone looked at Jamie, who had thrown the pillow, and the whole group burst into roars of laughter.

"Caleb, the Boogeyman doesn't laugh like that," Pippa said.

Caleb sat up after taking the pillow off of his face and shrugged. "I thought it would be dramatic."

"Well," Brooke said, lifting Sophie off her lap and standing up. "That was a lovely reenactment, you guys. It's getting dark out though. You all oughta head home, okay?"

The children groaned, but didn't argue. They had forgotten that the days were shorter in winter, and none of them wanted to leave so soon. As Jamie said goodbye to his friends at the door, Brooke brought all the mugs back to the kitchen sink. She heard Jamie and Sophie approach her from behind as she washed the dishes.

"Hey, Brooke?" Jamie asked uncertainly.

"Yes?" she asked, not looking back.

"You…" he began. "You _do _believe our stories, right? I mean—you aren't just pretending, are you?"

Brooke turned off the water, dried her hands, and turned around to face Jamie and Sophie. She knelt down in front of them. "What gave you that idea?" she asked.

"It's just…" He paused, thinking. "No one ever believes us. I was just making sure."

The older girl smiled. "Hm. You're sure you saw the Guardians? You and your friends?"

He nodded.

"And you all didn't just dream it up and thought you saw them, right?"

"We know they're real!" Jamie insisted. "Jack Frost still comes to visit us even!"

"You aren't a liar, are you?"

"No way!"

Brooke chuckled. "Well then, how can I not believe?"

Jamie's shoulders relaxed as she said that, and he smiled. Brooke patted his shoulder and stood up, taking Sophie by the hand and gestured for Jamie to follow. "Come on," she told him. "If you still aren't convinced, we'll go to your room and you can tell me some stories about the Guardians before I have to leave when your mom comes home, yeah?" Brooke paused a moment, displaying her thinking face, which consisted of slightly pursed lips pushed outward into a small pout. "Maybe Jack Frost? You seem to know a lot about him."

Instantly, the boy perked up. "Okay!"

When they got to Jamie's room, Jamie immediately found a comfortable spot on his bed, and Brooke and Sophie followed suit. Brooke lifted Sophie onto the mattress and Brooke sat with her legs stretched out and her back towards the window.

None of them noticed the winter spirit arriving by Jamie's window a little while later, when Jamie was already deep into discussion about how amazing Jack was and all of the powers he'd witnessed. Brooke nodded encouragingly every time Jamie paused to make sure she was paying attention. Every now and then, Jamie would turn to his sister for confirmation, asking, "Right, Soph?" and she would answer him in giggles and nods.

When Jack arrived at the Bennetts' house, the first thing he heard was: "—and then the sled flew up into the air and I landed right by the big statue in the park!"

The Guardian raised an eyebrow and moved closer to the window to get a better view. Jamie's window had accidentally been left open again (a bad habit of the boy's), so Jack pushed the window in a little more and peered through the widened aperture.

Jamie was standing on his bed, animatedly reenacting the sledding incident with his hands. It brought back some good memories for Jack, memories that he didn't need his teeth for—no offense to Tooth, of course. The sound effects were quite good, Jack had to admit, and he chuckled. That was when he noticed a person with short, brown, and curly hair sitting on the bed along with Sophie.

The babysitter.

She wasn't facing the window, not that she'd be able to see Jack anyway. He hadn't gotten a good look at her face the first time, and honestly he had forgotten what she looked like besides the hair. But from what Jack could see, it was almost as if she was trying to participate in the story rather than just hearing it from Jamie. When Jamie would demonstrate something, she'd say, "Oh, so it's like this?" and offer her own demonstration, to which Jamie would enthusiastically nod at reply, "Yeah!"

_So that's what Jamie meant._

Jack chuckled and rested against the bottom of the windowpane. At least Jamie was enjoying himself, like Jack had said. He still wasn't too sure about Brooke, but since Jamie liked her company he wouldn't make any harsh judgments. Besides, she didn't know he existed anyway.

Suddenly, when Jamie had finished his story, he spotted Jack at the window. The boy's eyes widened and he called out, "Jack!"

Jack gave a little nod of acknowledgment at Jamie, knowing that the boy might have to think of a cover story for his outburst, but what came next was not something he expected.

When Brooke and Sophie turned towards the window in confusion, Sophie smiled and laughed, reaching out to Jack and saying his name, but Brooke gasped and moved back, putting an arm across Sophie like she was protecting her.

"Oh my God!" Brooke exclaimed, blinking in surprise. She turned to Jamie. "I—what—Jamie, you left your window open!"

Jamie smiled uncertainly like, "whoops." Jack was shocked at Brooke's reaction, and for a moment the two just stared at each other in disbelief.

_She can see me?_

It was the first time they saw each other. Well, it was the second time for Jack, but this was the first time he was seeing her when she could see him. Something like that. Icy blue met warm gray in the midst of utter astonishment. Somehow, the two felt a sort of _collision_.

Moments later, Jamie was crouching next to Brooke, shaking her shoulder and saying, "No, it's okay, Brooke!"

The babysitter broke out of her trance and turned to Jamie, eyebrows furrowing. "Huh?"

"Jack Frost!" Sophie declared, scrambling past Brooke's arm, off the bed, and over to Jack, who greeted her with a smile and wave.

Brooke's line of vision followed Sophie, and then went back up to look at Jack.

Jack decided to play it cool—after all, he had to live up to his reputation. He climbed through the window into Jamie's room and walk towards Brooke. "What?" he asked while quirking an eyebrow. He brought a hand up to his mouth. "Do I have something stuck in my teeth?"

For a minute, she just looked at him flabbergasted. Finally, Brooke's eyes flicked to Jamie and back, and she muttered. "Wow, kiddo, you really weren't kidding about the blue eyes." She pressed her palms against her face, looking very concentrated. "I'm not dreaming, am I?"

Jamie laughed at her and shook his head. "Nope."

"Good." Brooke sighed. "Just making sure."

The Guardian decided to drop his composure and ask, "Wait—you really can see me? Like, you _actually _see me, right here, in Jamie's room?"

It was Brooke's turn to play cool, now that she was over the shock. She put on her thinking face and got up off the bed, walking in a circle around him at arm's length. As she did so, she made note of various physical characteristics.

"Well, let's see," she began, "Bare feet, brown pants, dark blue sweater, hair as white as snow, I'd say a good three or four inches taller than me…"

She made him feel self-conscious, like she was criticizing him. Jack didn't like that. He waved a hand, almost irritated, and said, "Okay, okay, I get it."

Brooke cocked her head to the side, holding a hand out. "Nice to meet you Mr. Frost. Brooke Winters."

Oh, the irony. Of all the names she had to have.

Jack gave her a skeptical look before shaking her hand. She didn't flinch at how cold his skin was, which Jack felt was a bit impressive. Only a little bit. "It's just Jack."

As this was happening, Jamie was looking back and forth between them, too ecstatic to realize the awkward tension. "I can't believe it!" the kid exclaimed. "You see him!"

"Yeah, you see him!" Sophie echoed, just as excited, clapping her hands.

Brooke chuckled at the two kids, nodding and ruffling Jamie's hair. She snuck another glance at Jack, but quickly flicked her eyes back before he saw her. He honestly wasn't anything she expected at all, but Brooke supposed that there were too many renditions of Jack Frost to make accurate assumptions. Old Man Winter, Father Frost. The image of Jack Frost varied from an elderly man to a small bratty child in many stories, and yet here he was. A teenaged boy with tousled white hair and striking blue eyes, wearing a hoodie and carrying a staff.

Who'd have seen _that _coming?

She got the feeling that Jack didn't like her very much, which was weird, considering they'd just met. He gave this look like he was inspecting her, putting her under a microscope and trying to pick out her thoughts. His gaze made her uncomfortable.

After a few moments, she asked, "So…does this happen very often?"

Jamie and Jack looked at her and spoke simultaneously. "Does what happen?"

Brooke blinked. "The, er, _you_—" she pointed at Jack "—coming to his room and watching him? No one sees you?"

Jack gave her an incredulous expression. Was she deliberately trying to make him sound like a creep? "I'm just trying to make sure he and Sophie are safe," he explained slowly. "And no one ever sees me. They can't."

Brooke raised an eyebrow skeptically. Jamie and Sophie stared at both of them wide-eyed and Brooke exhaled like she was exhausted. The Guardian stared at her with curious eyes, wondering what she could be thinking about.

The sound of the front door caught everyone's attention. It had to be Ms. Bennett. Grateful for the excuse to leave the room, Brooke glanced at the others before exiting to greet the kids' mother at the door. Sophie went and followed.

Jack turned to Jamie. "What was that all about?" he asked, bewildered.

Jamie shrugged. "I don't know," he answered. "Maybe she doesn't like you?" It came out more like a question, and Jamie looked embarrassed, since he was the one saying that Jack and Brooke would get along.

"You think?" Jack frowned. He wasn't really sure if he cared that much; he just met her after all. But he wanted to ask her a few things, and if she were cross with him, it wouldn't really help.

The younger boy shook his head. "She's probably tired or something. People act weird when they're tired. Mom was out all day helping a friend with a wedding or something, so Brooke's been here since nine o'clock this morning."

Jack's eyes widened. It was about half past five in the afternoon by now.

Jamie's mom called him to come say goodbye to Brooke, and Jack figured it was time he left too. It wouldn't make much sense for him to stick around after what just happened.

Besides, he wanted to have a word with the babysitter.

Jack grabbed his staff and left the way he came in. He circled around to the front of the house by the porch. He saw Brooke talking with Jamie's mom a little bit, and when they finally said goodbye, Brooke made her way off the porch and down the neighborhood. She didn't see him, so Jack decided to walk up behind her and out a hand on her shoulder.

The girl stiffened and whirled around, eyes wide until she saw Jack's face, then her brows rose in confusion.

"Hey," Jack said, smiling awkwardly. He scratched the back of his head.

She tilted her head to the side. "Hello," she said slowly.

An awkward silence fell between them, and Brooke began walking again. Jack followed besides her, lightly frosting the pavement as he did so.

"So you really do believe, huh?" Jack pressed on, looking at her in the corner of his eye.

"What?" She looked at him.

Her gray eyes were a bit disconcerting. They were dark, like the moon with a shadow cast over it. Jack cleared his throat and looked in another direction.

"You believe," he repeated. "In the Sandman, the Tooth Fairy, Santa, the Easter Bunny. You even believe in me. Jamie said you listened to his stories."

Jack heard her exhale like she was chuckling. "I've believed in all of those guys since I was a kid," Brooke began. "Of course, I've never seen them, and I'd nearly forgotten about them as I grew older, even though I'd tell the stories myself many times to other children.

"Then I moved here, I met Jamie and his friends, and they really reminded me of how amazing it all was. Presents on Christmas day, waking up in the morning with a quarter under your pillow, egg hunts, and sweet dreams."

When she talked she brought an image of each of the Guardians to Jack's mind, and he smiled. Her voice was nostalgic, wistful, reminding Jack of a soft, light breeze.

"What about me?" Jack wondered.

"You really want me to talk about you, don't you?" Brooke teased lightly. "I've read books. Seen pictures. There were some that would fit your description, others not so much."

Jack laughed. He was used to the strange interpretations.

"I never really thought about you until I met Jamie," she admitted. "He was most excited about you, after all. And for some reason, right after he told me about you, you decided to show up at his window."

Brooke was grinning now, a crooked smile that Jack didn't expect from her.

"So you're taking all of this from a kid," Jack confirmed, still disbelieving.

"What's wrong with that?" Brooke gave him a pout. "I mean, think about it. The children come up to you, and they're so excited. Naturally you want to know why. When they tell you, their eyes light up and their smiles become too big for their faces. They ramble on and on, except it isn't really rambling. Once they take that deep breath and finally get to the spectacular ending, they insist that everything they've told you is the truth. Take one good look at those kids' faces, and how can you think otherwise?"

It was an incredible depiction. Brooke was absolutely right; it was hard to deny a kid when they were in such high spirits. The thing about Brooke was that she didn't just say things to please the children. The children truly convinced her.

"Wow." Jack blinked. "That was something."

Brooke glanced at him before dropping her grin and replacing it with a nervous smile. "Is there any particular reason you're following me home?"

Jack shrugged. "Not really." He scrutinized her face. "You're just rather calm for someone who's talking to the Spirit of Winter and Mischief. Most people would run for the hills or think they're hallucinating." Jack chuckled. "Especially since no one else can see me."

"You always say that," Brooke noticed. "That no one can see you."

"Um." Jack paused. He hadn't realized he was doing that until she pointed it out. "I guess I'm still amazed by it."

"Why?" Brooke asked. "You've been around for three hundred years, didn't you say?"

She had a good memory.

"Yeah." Jack sighed. "But for three hundred years no one could see me. Until I met Jamie. He believed in me."

Realization dawned on Brooke's face. For some reason, she felt that Jack had a really lonely past. Of course, she didn't know him at all, aside from him controlling the forces of the winter season, but her gut feeling hadn't ever failed her before.

"He really is a special kid, though," Brooke agreed, nodding. "Jamie loves to tell everyone about the Guardians. He's got crayon drawings plastered all over his walls. I've known him for no more than a few weeks, but it's easy to tell that he's different."

Jack didn't say anything. He just kept walking, staring at the ground. To be honest, things haven't changed that much since then. There were still plenty of kids who had no idea who Jack Frost was. Once in a while he would forget that a few could see him now, and he would be out in plain sight until he heard the alarmed shouts of kids as they spotted him.

Suddenly Jack noticed Brooke wasn't next to him, and he looked back. She'd stopped at the house next to them and was walking up the steps of the porch. Jack peered around and down the street. She was pretty close to Jamie's house; they'd only been walking for a few minutes.

"So…" Jack said, causing Brooke to stop and turn her head to meet his gaze. For a moment afterward, he couldn't think of what to say. The Guardian cleared his throat. "Guess I'll see you around, Brooke."

Brooke opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped herself and pursed her lips together instead. She walked to the front door, opened it slightly, and paused again. Jack's brow furrowed, but Brooke turned to him again and smiled slightly.

"Yeah, okay," she replied. "See you around, Mr. Frost."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Yeahh just disregard anything I mention that has to do with updates since I'm obviously not listening to myself. Oh well. u**

**(By the way, in this chapter, I try to get a little bit of Jack's emotional teenage side. It's nothing dramatic, but I mean, he's spent 300 years in angst about being invisible. I wanted to give him to chance to complain about something else for a change, something that's not actually as bad as he thinks it is. Kind of like how teenagers sort of blow things out of proportion? Well-you'll see.)**

* * *

Jack and Sandman were in the sky, staring down below at the urban setting. The city looked very nice. Jack didn't know exactly where they were, somewhere in Europe maybe, but the view was breathtaking. The lights were still glowing and a thin layer of fog was settling over the streets, courtesy of Jack. He was sitting on Sandman's cloud of dreamsand, observing the golden tendrils as they found their way to the sleeping children in their homes.

As the sand swirled through the air, they took on different forms to suit the preferences of the kids. Jack saw animals, a castle, and a baseball bat, even a dancing snowman. That one in particular brought a smile to his face. Jamie and his friends loved making snowmen at the park.

"That reminds me," Jack said, turning to Sandman suddenly. "Jamie has a babysitter, can you believe that?" He shook his head.

Sandman was hardly paying attention; he just nodded at the sound of Jack's voice. The little man had work to do, and frankly, Jack was being a bit distracting. He wasn't trying to be rude, but Sandman had to tune out Jack's ramblings while he worked on distributing the dreams. The winter spirit continued anyway:

"I met her a few weeks back, and it's crazy, Sandy. She can actually see me! I should be excited, but I don't really think it's a good thing though. She always gets quiet when I'm there with the kids and she acts like I'm nothing special."

There was defiance in Jack's voice because he had always felt like Brooke was judging him. She looked at him as though she expected something better and Jack was a disappointment.

Jack's voice was getting louder as he spoke, his voice gradually increasing in volume along with exasperation. Sandman quirked an eyebrow, and glanced back at the young Guardian, pausing for a moment. The boy in blue now seemed to just be talking for the sake of talking.

"Ever since that time at Jamie's house, she wouldn't bother coming near me. She stays on the porch while the kids play in the snow. It's pretty boring, actually. I guess she's not as much fun as Jamie said—"

He was cut off by Sandman holding a finger in his face. If Jack was going to stick around and be a distraction, this would be a long night for the both of them, and Sandman didn't appreciate people making him late. His stern expression was enough for Jack to cease talking, and the winter spirit put his hands up in surrender. Jack frowned, lightly pushing away Sandman's finger and putting his head in his hands.

"Sorry, Sandy," the boy said. "Didn't mean to bother you like that."

Something wasn't right with the young Guardian, and it was obvious to Sandman that Jack had a lot on his mind. That was unusual, since Jack normally spent his time trying to make winter as much fun as possible. There wasn't much room for deep thinking when you were pelting snowballs at unassuming passerby.

Deciding that maybe Jack needed a little help with his problems, Sandman put a hand on Jack's shoulder, and as the younger Guardian looked up, a question mark appeared above Sandman's head. He raised his eyebrows, too, for good measure.

Jack sighed and leaned back, supporting his upper body weight by placing his hands slightly behind him. He tilted his head up towards the sky, staring at the stars. After a moment he said, "Her name is Brooke. Brooke Winters. She's seventeen, according to Jamie."

Sandman stood back and crossed his arms, shooting Jack a skeptical look.

"No really!" Jack chuckled at Sandman's face. "Anyways, Sandy, she _believes_. In all of us, including me. She saw me! It's crazy, right?"

The little man nodded, gesturing for Jack to continue. It really wasn't that far fetched. Long before Jack became Jack Frost, Sandman remembered how easy it was for even adults to believe in the guardians. As time went on, however, that faith seemed to be a luxury reserved for children as the stories passed down the generations. The young ones were always the most impressionable, but much of the older folk had thought themselves more "reasonable" than their ancestors and such.

Now that Jack actually had Sandman's undivided attention, he was beginning to feel self-conscious about what he was saying. "I mean, I guess it's not a big deal. But when I came back to Burgess, the kids ditched me for her."

So that was the problem. Sandman could understand Jack's distress. After three hundred years of being invisible, those kids were the first to see the winter spirit, and Jack was overjoyed. He was eternally grateful to those children, and all the other Guardians knew that Jack had a special place in his heart for the Burgess kids, as they all had. To have something people so precious to him being taken away would be horrible.

In an attempt to comfort Jack, Sandman pounded his small fist into his other hand, giving him a serious look. For a moment, Jack didn't understand what he meant. Once he realized it, his eyes widened and Jack shook his head.

"What?" he asked incredulously. "Come on, Sandy. You wouldn't hit a lady." Jack stopped short, scrutinizing Sandman's face. "Would you?" he added.

Sandman shrugged as if it didn't make a difference to him. Jack shot the man a strange look before going on.

"Really, though, she isn't so bad," Jack admitted, slumping his shoulders. He took his staff and drew patterns in the air. Snowflakes materialized, popping up and remaining suspended in midair until Jack commanded them to fall with a downward flick of his wrist.

It wasn't that he didn't like Brooke. She was fine, but for some reason Jack liked being the center of attention with the kids. Maybe he was just selfish. Jack just enjoyed their company, and after being alone most of his life, he wasn't too fond of sharing.

Sandman decided at that moment to move onto the next town, and Jack waited while Sandman directed the cloud through the night sky. Watching the scenery go by in a blur, Jack thought a little bit more about why he was so bothered by Brooke's presence. She wasn't doing anything wrong, and she certainly didn't do anything outright against Jack.

"The kids like her a lot," Jack told Sandman as they moved along. "She listens to them and doesn't make them feel bad for believing in us. She's a little overly polite, though. She can cook well—" Jack actually wasn't sure about that one; he'd only seen Brooke make hot chocolate and canned soup "—and she's good at storytelling too. From what I've seen, she really knows how to keep the kids' attention. And she can be very persuasive sometimes."

Sandman's eyebrows rose up again. He couldn't look back while moving the cloud, however he knew what he heard. Before, Jack spoke of Brooke with a distasteful tone, but now it was turning into something else. Admiration? Respect, perhaps? Whatever it was, it was much more positive this time.

"To be honest, Brooke makes my job a lot easier: she knows how to invent games and always has new ideas to kill boredom. But…" Jack paused, an uncharacteristic pout forming at his lips. "I like my job, always have. I don't want someone else doing it. Even if she is great."

The golden man turned to face Jack and the dreamsand cloud slowed to a halt. He wasn't so sure if Jack was aware of the last part of the sentence because Jack seemed so distracted; his eyes were downcast, overlooking the new city below. He didn't even react to the fact that he had just paid the girl a direct compliment (albeit not in her presence).

Silently, as always, Sandman conjured up a new figure, this time in front of Jack's face to make sure the younger Guardian saw it. When Jack noticed the gold sand accumulated in front of his nose, he pulled back in surprise and held his hand out, palm up, underneath the clump of particles as if to support it. Hovering above Jack's palm was a small heart, and when he saw it, he rolled his eyes and waved his hand through the air, dissipating the image.

Sandman chuckled—at least it looked like he was laughing; there was no sound—when Jack looked back at him, but he appeared innocent and proceeded to spread his dreams to new children. Sandman had honestly just been teasing. He wanted to make sure Jack wasn't getting too lost in his thoughts. It wasn't good for anyone to think too much.

"Sandy, get real," Jack insisted, knowing full well that Sandman was still listening to him. "Even if it was like that, how would anything work out between us? I'm immortal and she's, well…not. It'd be a complete mess."

The older Guardian tilted his head, bewildered. Jack was never one to consider the consequences of his actions, no offense intended. For three hundred years, he had always been living in the now. He never really grew beyond the biological age he was eternally bound to. When did he start to act more mature? Sandman didn't have an answer.

Still, maybe romance was really out of the question for beings like them. Sandman himself, while being able to appreciate a beautiful face, was never particularly interested in finding someone. He only loved to sleep. Tooth was the only one in a long time to display the slightest attraction to anyone—namely, Jack—but her feelings soon turned towards a more maternal side and she treated Jack like she was a proud mother or older sister, though she was still quite enamored with his teeth.

Jack didn't speak for a while, and Sandman took his chance to turn away from the conversation. Dream magic was a delicate business, and while Jack was silent, Sandman found the opportunity to resume his work uninterrupted.

Unbeknownst to Sandman, Jack was watching his work intently, his blue eyes following the dreamsand wherever it went and sighing in amazement. Jack would probably never get used to the sight; it was beautiful. The dreams of children were more intricate than they seemed. They were all of a bright future, or a better life, the little joys of the world, or something great like that. There were even dreams of the Guardians, of meeting Santa, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, and the Sandman.

There were hardly any dreams about Jack Frost, despite the fact that he was now an official Guardian. People often associated Jack Frost everything bad that came with winter: the blizzards, the painful cold, and the slippery ice. Jack Frost was one to blame, not to praise. What people neglected to acknowledge was that the softness of the first snow, the land blanketed in pretty, sparkling white, and the laughter of kids having snowball fights or sledding or building snowmen were all because of Jack, too. But who would listen to anyone that tried to sell Jack Frost as the good guy?

_Brooke_, Jack thought.

That was the first name that popped into his mind. Not even Jamie. Although she didn't appear to have a fondness for Jack, Brooke just had this kind of open-mindedness about her. She would give any and all ideas a chance, no exceptions. That's why Jamie—no, that's why _all _the kids she meets like her so much. She encouraged imagination and creativity more than anyone else.

"You know Sandy," Jack said suddenly, causing the other Guardian to stop and turn to him again, "I don't think those kids need me. Maybe Brooke is a sign. It's been just over a year since the battle with Pitch, but I think they've moved on."

Okay, now Jack was just talking crazy. This time, Sandman completely stopped what he was doing, faced Jack, and put his hands on the other's shoulders, staring him in the eye. A series of golden sand figures popped up and disappeared over his head in quick succession as Sandy attempted to silently explain that the kids _did_ need Jack.

Why wouldn't they need him? No one brought the fun like he did, and some new neighbor wasn't just going to change all of it. What Jack needed to realize was that whoever this Brooke girl was, she can't and won't replace him, especially in the eyes of those children. She was just new, that was all. Kids always loved new things for a while before becoming tired of them.

The white-haired boy raised an eyebrow at Sandman before giving him a small smile in gratitude. "Thanks buddy." He didn't understand all of it, but the feelings were evident and it touched Jack that Sandman tried at all. Looking around, Jack added, "I guess I should just…leave you to do your thing, huh?"

The stout man gave him a look like, _Yes, please, _and the winter sprite stood up on the cloud, bade Sandman goodbye, and called upon the wind to take him away. Sandman waved as Jack's figure flew beyond the clouds, and when he was gone, Sandman cracked his knuckles and smiled at the scenery below, ready to get to the next city over.

Finally, some quiet time, Sandman thought, a smidgen miffed that he was now behind schedule. He would have to relish it. Something told him that this wouldn't be the last time Jack would come to him to talk about "the babysitter."

* * *

Brooke's front porch was a really comfortable spot. On one side of the door, there was a cushioned bench to relax in and a circular table in front of it, kind of like a coffee table. On the other corner of the porch sat a rather inviting rocking chair, which was there for the sole reason of Brooke's dad wanting a rocking chair.

Jamie enjoyed the rocking chair, so naturally that's where he was sitting, while Brooke took a spot on the bench, reading a novel for school. It was the first time Jamie came to Brooke's house on a school day, so she was rather surprised to find the young boy knocking at her door. He told her that he wanted to wait outside, in case Jack would come back. The Guardian had made a few more visits to the kids since the day Brooke met him, and for some reason Jamie was bent on waiting with Brooke on this particular day. He explained that though his friends were also excited about Jack, they had other things to do.

At first, she was unsure about it, but in the end she relented and agreed to accompany Jamie outside, on the condition that he do his homework while they were on the porch. Jamie argued that he was planning on doing it anyway, but he gave Brooke the guilty look and wouldn't meet her eyes. She just laughed and ruffled his hair.

That's how they ended up on the porch, with Brooke reading something from Orwell or whomever and Jamie working on solving equations with fractions.

Out of nowhere, Jamie said, "I'm glad you came to Burgess, Brooke."

The teenager looked up from her novel, surprised. "Thanks, Jamie." She raised her eyebrows and added slowly, "How come?"

He was still focused on his math problem, and Jamie didn't look up while he talked. "I don't know," he told her with a small shrug. "No one else would wait outside with me like this. In fact, no one in this neighborhood besides my friends believes in Jack, either."

"I see." Brooke gave Jamie a reassuring smile. "Well, if you ever need me, you know where I'll be." She paused a moment, looking at the boy's expression. "Something else on your mind, sport?"

This time, Jamie sighed and looked up at her, tapping his pencil against the armrest of the chair. "People would think I'm crazy if I told them about the Guardians and how me and my friends met them. I don't like that. I think Jack deserves more people that believe in him, but I can't tell anyone." He sighed again. "They wouldn't listen if I told them."

Brooke pouted slightly. "I listened."

Jamie grinned brightly at Brooke. "Oh, yeah."

"Say, Jamie," Brooke began, setting her novel on the table. "Why do you like Jack so much anyways? Why not Santa, or the Easter Bunny?"

Out of all the stories that Jamie would tell, Jack Frost was the most frequent. Like the first time Jack and Jamie met, in Jamie's room of all places, or how Jack boldly sent a snowball hurling towards Pitch's face. But Brooke's favorite story had to be when, after the battle against Pitch and his nightmares, Jack assured Jamie that they'd always be in his heart, and that Jamie was a Guardian too. It was really cheesy, which of course was exactly the reason she adored it so much.

Brooke's question prompted Jamie to think a little bit. He loved all the Guardians, truly, but Jack especially. "He's like a brother," Jamie decided. "He watches over me and makes sure Sophie and I are happy."

"Sounds a bit like a guardian angel," Brooke noticed.

Jamie snorted with laughter. Jack, an angel? He was far from it, Jamie knew that much. Jack liked to make trouble and mess around. It was hardly saint-like. However, Jamie supposed that Brooke was right, in a way.

"It's my turn to ask a question," Jamie insisted enthusiastically. The unspoken rule between them was that if one of them asked a personal question, the other could ask them something too.

"Shoot," Brooke permitted.

"Why don't you look happy whenever Jack is here?"

Her eyebrows rose. "How do you mean?"

"You always have that thinking face." Jamie attempted to imitate Brooke's expression. He came pretty close, too. Brooke had to laugh.

"I don't know." She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I'm not really excited when it's cold out."

The child thought about that statement for a moment. Brooke never did play much with them outside since the first snowfall in Burgess that year. She would wait at Jamie's porch, looking at them from a distance while she was bundled up in her scarf. She hadn't participated in a snowball fight or helped them build a snowman or made snow angels with them.

Once or twice though, Jamie would look back at Brooke and catch her leaning over the wooden railing, staring up at the clouds with her hand held out to catch the delicate snowflakes that floated down. Jamie thought he saw her smile those times, but she was always a bit too far to tell for certain.

"Why not?" Jamie pressed on with pleading eyes.

Brooke chuckled at him, bringing her legs up to sit cross-legged on the bench and folding her hands in her lap. She leaned against the back of the bench. "Remember how I told you about my mom passing away?"

Jamie nodded. It was shortly after they had met, and Jamie felt proud that Brooke confided in him. She never treated him like other people treated children; she knew he was old enough to understand. Jamie also felt like he could sort of relate, given that his parents had divorced just a few years after his birth. He didn't know where his dad had gone, and his mother usually never spoke of him.

"It was because…" Brooke trailed off a moment, trying to piece together an adequate explanation. "She died in a car accident during the winter. It was snowing a lot that day." She looked out at the road in front of her house. Snow wasn't falling at the moment, but the pavement was still damp from the melted ice. "During her funeral it was snowing, too."

"Oh." The kid was silent for a long time. He didn't know what to say to that, and he hoped he wouldn't need too. Brooke told the events as easily as if she were talking about what happened book she had been reading, but Jamie felt terrible: here he was, yammering on about how Jack was the greatest person in the world. Every time Brooke saw Jack, he was just another reminder of a sad time in her life. What do you say to someone when your hero is the one causing them pain?

Jamie felt the need to come to Jack's defense, just in case Brooke had any ill thoughts about him. "But Jack is really nice! It's not his fault, Brooke! He'd never do something like that, ever."

"I know." Brooke laughed. "Jack _is_ nice, and I never would have known that without you, so thanks. It's the cold I don't like, not him. Now, go finish your homework, kiddo."

Jamie grinned wide with satisfaction, knowing that he'd done something good for Brooke. He didn't even complain about returning to his math problems. Brooke, on the other hand, didn't think about picking up her novel again to finish the chapter she was on. Instead, she let her mind wander, twiddling her thumbs. She glanced over at Jamie and tried to fathom just how much the Guardians meant to the boy.

Many people thought Brooke was just trying to hold onto her childhood by believing these "fictional" people. Others thought she was just saying it to humor others. Perhaps once Brooke had met someone who even thought she was actually insane. Behind her back, Brooke knew that there were people who blamed her late mother for her so-called obsession with myth.

When she was young, it was her mother that introduced Brooke to stories of Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and Sandman. Her mother would tell tales of faraway lands full of magic and how these extraordinary individuals fought together to preserve happiness among the children of the world.

"I want you to learn about them, sweetheart," her mother would say. "Your father may not believe, but I do, and I want you to believe, too."

And thus, Brooke was heavily influenced by her mother's stories. She would anticipate the coming of the Sandman every night or squeal in delight whenever she lost a tooth. Brooke was one of the most enthusiastic egg hunters on Easter Sunday, and no one was happier to see Santa's presents than she.

The memory of her mother was probably why Brooke believed in all of them with such certainty and conviction. Moving to Burgess and meeting Jamie and Sophie and their friends, kids who also had a special attachment to the Guardians, was a welcome coincidence for her.

What caught her off guard was the existence of Jack Frost. It seemed as though the rest of the Guardians had such a grandeur atmosphere about them. Jack Frost looked like any other trouble-making teenager in the neighborhood (heck, that's who she thought he was at first), save for the unnaturally pale skin and hair. Plus the fact that he wore no shoes despite being in the snow all the time.

She couldn't place it, but Brooke expected something different. She had expected a Guardian to be someone who everyone could idolize and greatly respect, not a boy who was so comfortable playing around with kids. Brooke was looking for something more…professional.

Of course, she wasn't complaining about Jack's behavior in the slightest. It was nice to see the kids laughing with him and all. Brooke liked that someone was there to give the kids proof that the Guardians were still and would always be around. All Jack did was make his job a bit more personal.

"Brooke," Jamie called, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Hm?" She turned to him and found that Jamie had finished his homework. He was thinking hard about something, rolling the pencil between his fingers and furrowing his brow.

"I really think you should've been there," he told her. "When Jack was fighting Pitch, I mean."

_Here we go again_, Brooke thought fondly. Jamie just loved talking about Jack.

"No, really." Jamie was trying to read Brooke's expression. "I think if you saw how cool he was, you wouldn't mind the cold so much. Instead of it reminding you of something bad, it would remind you of something good."

His demeanor was painfully innocent. Brooke didn't answer him back right away. Jamie only had well intentions, so she couldn't fault him for anything. However, she wasn't sure if she wanted to be reminded of Jack that often. It did snow quite a lot in Burgess.

"It's not really my thing, Jamie," Brooke admitted with a slight frown. "I can't do great stuff like you and your friends, or the Guardians. I couldn't fight Pitch or anything like that. I'm just your babysitter."

Her expression made Jamie sad. Then it made him defiant. Why couldn't Brooke do something like that? What made her so different from Jamie or the other kids? There wasn't a rule that said babysitters couldn't be great people, too.

"But don't you _want_ to do something amazing?" Jamie insisted.

Brooke smiled, getting up off the bench and walking over to ruffle Jamie's hair. "Meeting you is pretty amazing, I think."

"You know what I mean," Jamie countered. He wasn't going to back down from this conversation.

"Well, Jamie, it's not that easy," Brooke chided. "It won't just happen out of the blue. Amazing takes time, you know?"

"Then we'll wait!" Jamie concluded. "I have a feeling it won't be long."

The babysitter chuckled without another word. She would just humor Jamie for now, but he'd soon realize that whatever he had in mind was probably not going to happen for Brooke. She didn't feel like she'd ever be ready to handle that kind of responsibility.

_Maybe the kid has a point, Brooke, _a small part of herself piped up. _You should put yourself out there. You could be destined for great things._

Almost immediately her less optimistic side retorted sarcastically, _Right, great things always come from the ordinary_. _Besides, I'm perfectly content with myself now._

They didn't see Jack that afternoon, and Jamie went home feeling a little disappointed, but he suspected that Jack was busy. The child stayed up in his room that night, long after his mother and Sophie had fallen asleep. He became so fixated on what Brooke said that he couldn't get any shuteye.

_"I can't do great stuff…I'm just your babysitter."_

The Sandman ought to have come by this time. Perhaps he was just late. Jamie slid out of his bed and paced around his room. He stopped in front of the black chest at the foot of his bed, knelt down, and opened it up. He rummaged through the items till he reached the bottom, pulling out a worn book of nursery rhymes and brushing the bit of dust off the cover.

The chest was put there just recently, and Jamie's parents had almost thrown the old book away, but Jamie took a particular interest in it. To keep it away from Sophie (he loved her and everything, but sometimes his sister had a tendency to lose things), he kept it at the bottom of the chest. Jamie wasn't sure what made him go to the book now, but he did. Maybe he was hoping that it would help him fall asleep.

As he flipped through the pages, Jamie noticed the pages were yellowed with age, but the printed words and illustrations stood out to him clearly. The assortment of short poems and comical pictures were always a comfort to Jamie, since his mother always read it to him when he was younger. Looking at the stories now, Jamie felt that they had an important connection to something. He couldn't figure out what exactly, but the longer he stared at the pages, the stronger the feeling became. Jamie closed the book to look at the cover. He ran his fingers over the title, which shone in gold letters under the moonlight that filtered through his window: _Mother Goose's Nursery Rhymes._

Excited, Jamie took the book and brought it into bed with him so he could read by lamplight. When the child finally fell into slumber, he left the book open on his chest with the pages facing down, as if hoping the stories would imprint themselves on his heart while he slept.


End file.
